Return To Guertena An Ib Fanfic
by MaiForgottenMemory
Summary: Ib comes back to the gallery to see Guertena's works on display once more. As she comes in contact with the Forgotten Portrait, everything quickly spirals out of control once again, and the teenage Ib is dragged once again into the Fabricated World.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome To The Gallery

_'This is it. ._ .'

In a flurry of long brown hair, Ib walked towards the large entrance of the art museum. In her hands, she held a pamphlet. It was from the last time Guertena's works had been displayed, seven years ago. Though she only remembered a portion of her trip, his art had a lasting impression on her. Unlike the last time she'd gone, her parent's did not enter along with her, instead, they'd dropped her off.

Finally, she stopped in front of the Information desk, picking up a new pamphlet. Not even pausing to look through it, she put it into the small messenger bag she'd been carrying at the time. Quietly, Ib began to quietly look through the gallery. It was three full levels this time, unlike last time which only displayed two. She took a brief moment to look at each painting. Some of them made her stop longer, such as the Juggler. Others, like the Lady in Red, or the Hanged Man, made her want to flee upon sight.

Her crimson eyes flicked from painting to painting as she viewed the galleries first floor. Pausing at the stairs that led towards the next section of the gallery, she took another brief glance behind her, taking in the paintings once more before she ascended up the seemingly endless staircase. Ib had grown quite a bit since she'd last been to see Guertena's works, but most of them she remembered quite well. Apparently, this time they were displaying the famous painter's entire collection, instead of just the majority of it.

Entering the second level, Ib repeated the same process as she'd done with the previous floor, briefly taking in each painting and getting her own interpretations from them. Her attention, for a moment, was drawn to the trio of statues without faces, known merely as 'The Death of the Individual' and seemed to almost wince just from looking at them. They were another work of Guertena's that she felt an odd feeling towards, but within seconds, she shook it away like she'd done with the others and continued her exploration of the exhibition.

Once she'd finished her inspection of the second floor, she moved on to the third and final floor. Without much thought, she climbed the stairs, quickly noticing the third floor was practically empty. Peeking around, she quietly inspected each painting, and was beginning to feel an odd sense of nostalgia, though she couldn't quite understand why. Finally, she came to the last painting, and that's where she stopped dead in her tracks. The painting was of an amazingly realistic young man, somewhere in his late teens/early twenties and Ib felt an even stronger sense of nostalgia just by looking briefly at it.

She never remembered seeing a painting like this from her last trip, so she looked down to check its name, Forgotten Portrait. Its name was ironically fitting for the appearance of the man within it. Only one of his eyes was visible, the other was hidden behind a mass of pale lavender colored hair. But his lids were closed, showing he was asleep. The dark navy jacket he wore was frayed and ripped in many places, an olive undershirt visible underneath its dark shadow. His expression looked almost sad, the blue roses that were in bloom all around him seemed to add to the dark demeanor of the painting.

About to turn away, Ib saw the lights flicker twice, then return to normal. Looking around, she tried to find out whether one of the lights was going out, or if it'd been on purpose. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement from the painting near her. Turning her attention back to it, she saw the roses were slowly moving, exiting the painting. With holding a shriek, Ib looked around, and the lights flickered again, this time, a large smear of reddish paint greeted her. Upon further inspection, she noticed that words had been formed in it, the words 'Welcome back Ib.'


	2. Chapter 2: Falling In

Ib stood there for a moment, paralyzed. She'd seen something similar to this before...but how? It made no sense, and as she felt something brush past her feet, and she looked over to see the roses that had erupted moments before from the Forgotten Portrait were growing even faster than before. As they slowly wrapped around her feet, she quickly struggled, resisting their leafy grasp. Oblivious to the fact that her shoes were still amongst the thorn-filled vines, she ran, towards the staircase, hoping to get to the ground level before she was entangled in a mass of blue roses and thorns.

As she was about to run down the staircase, the lights flickered once again, and she saw yet another note, written in crimson paint on the stairs handrail 'Ib, don't run away, just come and play~.' Ib was confused, in more ways than one, but she ignored the paint, grabbed the handrail, and ran down the seemingly endless stairs, leaving a trail of paint down the long spiral handrail.

Out of breath and tired, Ib finally reached the second floor, and began to walk around the displays, looking for an exit of any kind. It seemed as if the floor stretched out forever, but the young girl knew it was merely her nerves that made it seem like that. In the hopes of retrieving her handkerchief, Ib slid her hand into the pocket of her skirt, feeling around for it's soft texture and embroidered patterns. Met by only air and the bottom of the pocket's seam, Ib began to worry. The handkerchief was of great importance to her and her parents, and she'd hate to think what they'd say if she lost it. "I must've left it on the third level." She muttered reluctantly, not wanting to go back up to the odd things that the uppermost level contained.

Sighing, she quickly ran up the long curling case of stairs, stepping over vines and thorns. Within a few minutes, she'd made her way back to the third level, and she quickly began her search for the handkerchief. Searching high and low, she made her way through the level with no luck in her search for the cloth. Taking a moment, she glanced at the Forgotten Portrait, only to see something that stopped the young girl in her tracks. In the painting, there were now two things that didn't belong. One, a thin young red rose amongst the blue ones, and two, her handkerchief, lying limply in the sleeping mans lap.

Without thought, she walked towards the painting, and slowly went to touch it. Feeling hands on her back, she went to turn around, but was pushed into the painting before she could react.


	3. Chapter 3: Lady In Red

Without another thought, or any thought for that matter, Ib found herself in a room. It was dim, and lacked color, except for the never ending mass of blue roses that seemed to cover almost everything except a small pathway on the floor, and the occasional painting. Slowly, the young girl walked, observing the odd area with great caution as she knew nothing of where she was, nor what was going on. Recalling the past events, she remembered the odd sensation of being pushed….but the only thing that had been in front of her was the Forgotten Portrait. This all seemed odd, and alarmingly familiar to Ib. Quickly trying to shake the collection of emotions that came with it all, she continued on ahead, hoping desperately to find an exit to the nightmare that this trip was coming to be.

After what seemed like an endless amount of time, the young girl collapsed, taking a seat on the thin pathway. Looking to a painting that hung on the wall in front of her, Ib noticed she knew which painting it was. The Lady In Red. Gazing at the beautiful painted woman, she felt her skin prickle, and every part of her thin body seemed to tell her 'Run' but she was too exhausted to do so. Moments passed, and the pain in Ib's legs had subsided. Standing, she took one last look at The Lady In Red, and continued to walk on ahead.

Not even 5 steps in, she heard a large crash. Quickly turning, Ib saw it and nearly screamed. The Lady In Red was sticking half out of her frame, now partially real, and was drawing towards Ib at an alarming pace. Turning around again, Ib bolted down the hallway, her legs screaming in protest. Hearing the frame dragging across the floor, and the ladies odd calls, Ib struggled to keep running. Finally, she saw a door, and with renewed hope, she ran towards it, putting every last ounce of her strength into her stride.

Grabbing the handle on the door, she heard it click, and it's hinges swung open with a raspy creak. Dashing into the room, the young girl slammed the door on the nearing painting, sitting down. Relief filled her as she looked around the room, seeing there were no other paintings. The room merely contained a bookshelf and a small mirror, nothing more, nothing less, and that was more than good enough for Ib.


	4. Chapter 4: Reunited?

Swsssh. A thin breeze floated through the room, and Ib released a shiver. Standing, the young girl decided to continue forwards. As her hand was about to wrap around the other exits handle, a book fell off one of the shelves. Surprised, she jumped, her eyes locking onto the inanimate object. "A…..book?" she thought aloud, walking towards the item in question. Picking it up, she looked at the cover. "The history of Guertena. . .?" she read it aloud. Flipping through it, she thought she saw a flash of a face of a young girl with blonde hair. Turning the pages backwards, looking for it, she saw nothing, and sighed.

The book's pages fell onto the Forgotten Portrait's information, and her eyes widened. It must've been an odd coincidence. Looking through the information she noticed all of it was blank. Confused, she put the book back in its spot, and heard a splatter. Quickly spinning on her heels, Ib took a quick look around the room, seeing a large collection of dripping blue paint on the wall near and on the door. 'Something is forgotten, something is replaced, hurry and remember Ib, before it's too late~' the wording was scribbled messily in the bluish ocean of ink. With a sigh, Ib quickly opened the door, stepping into an entirely different corridor, though it was quite similar to the last.

Within seconds, she noticed an odd scent in the hall, a mix of paint, and the metallic scent of blood. Eyes searching for the source of the smell, Ib cautiously walked, until she began to hear a repetitive 'Drip, Drip, Drip' coming from farther down the seemingly endless path. As she continued, she found herself running, panicked and searching, but for what? She had no clue, but she kept continuing on down the path, having no other choice.

Every time she saw a painting, she would duck or dash past them, not wanting to have another encounter with The Lady In Red….or something worse. It was like a constant nightmare, one she knew there was no escape from. Still, instead of panicking too much, Ib courageously pressed onwards. The sound often disappeared, or seemed far away, but there was no other real choice but forwards, so the young girl never even considered going back to where she'd been.

After a bit, Ib finally stopped, turning a corner, and she was in a small clearing. It was engulfed with blue roses, and all that sat in the area besides them were a table and a vase, that held a thin, elegant red rose. Without any real thought, Ib ran to the red rose, picking it up. Seeing a small collection of overly familiar azure toned paint, the young Ib inspected it, keeping the rose in one hand. 'Welcome back to the game Ib, don't forget to protect your rose, and follow the path of blue~' it said, once again, oddly cryptic.

With a sigh, Ib tucked the flower into the pocket of her blouse, listening to the painted message. Its words were cryptic, but she had an odd feeling that it all was very, very familiar. The entire predicament worried her, so she left the clearing, following the path of roses that led her away from the previous areas she'd come from. As she kept walking, she came to find a trail of small blue petals. Something caught in her chest, and she KNEW she'd seen this somewhere before. Without thought, she ran even faster, following the petals until finally, she found it, or rather, him. The lavender-haired man from the Forgotten Portrait, his chest rising and falling, showing he was alive. Not even realizing it, Ib unconsciously muttered a single word. "Garry?"


	5. Chapter 5: Re-enter

Author's Note:

I apologize that this chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones. I'm in the middle of working on a few other fan fictions to add on as well A Anyhow, i have a lot of down time this weekend, so i plan to have 6 (And maybe 7-8) done throughout. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter and continue to read/support this fanfic of mine ^ ^

Slowly, the man's lids opened, revealing ash mauve eyes that matched his hair. Looking around, the man seemed stunned, until he saw Ib. "Ib. . . Wait . . .Ib?!" he said, his eyes widening, and he quickly stood, trying to straighten his shredded coat. She thought about it, and slowly, she began to remember, the lost fragments of her past. Being chased again by the Lady In Red, finding the blue rose and the man in front of her…A girl with blonde hair being turned to ash. "Garry?" she repeated, at a loss for words. Tears welled up in the young girl's eyes, and she ran over to him, wrapping her arms around his thin waist and squeezing. "Ib? Um….that sorta hurts" he said quietly, and she quickly pulled back.

". . .Is Mary gone? Entirely?" Ib asked, eyes filled with worry. Mary was a painting who'd posed as a young girl to try and take the place of someone else in the real world. She'd tried to kill Garry, and nearly succeeded. With a small nod, Garry smiled. "Completely, no need to worry." And with that, Ib let out a large sigh of relief. "Now…." Garry paused taking another look to Ib and his eyes widened again. "Wait! Ib, you've grown! How long have I been stuck in here?" he asked, anxious. "I'm sixteen now. . ." Ib said quietly. "S-sixteen! But…that means…..I've been in here for over five years?!" Garry once again seemed panicked, and slowly nodded.

Garry took a look around, he seemed even more worried than the still much younger Ib. His worry quickly disappeared, and he sighed. "Well, I guess we just have to give this whole nightmare another go?" He asked, knowing there wasn't much of another choice. "Yeah" Ib agreed, looking around once more, for good measure. Without another word, the two of them began to walk, deeper into the fabricated world. Ib noticed the blue roses hadn't formed around the sides of the other paths, and it made her feel a little better. "Garry…Do you still have your rose?" Ib thought, the memory of Mary ripping his rose petal from petal slid into her head like a steel knife. He looked around, and finally produced a rose, this one just barely in bloom. "Hmm….that's odd…. I thought Mary had taken it. . ." He thought aloud.

Ib had as well, the entire event now painfully burned into her mind. "I'd forgotten. . ." the young girl muttered. Garry, oblivious to her comment, briskly walked a few steps ahead, clearly anxious to leave the nightmare that was this odd world, and frankly, Ib couldn't blame him. If her memories were true, they'd been through a LOT last time, and having met The Lady In Red, she suspected they needed to hurry, or even more terrors could appear. With a shudder from the thought, Ib quickly caught up with him, trying to push the thought out of her head once again.


	6. Chapter 6:They Will Play

Ib sighed, as Garry turned into another uniform hallway, just like every other they'd seen thus far. She was exhausted, and it was a miracle that her thin legs still managed to carry her. Still, she'd been through too much, and she collapsed against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position. Hearing this, Garry turned and smiled wearily "A break would be nice wouldn't it? Besides, we haven't seen anything suspicious yet" he said, and came to sit next to her. "So um Ib, how have you been?" he asked, trying to start up a conversation, and it worked.

The young girl spoke of school, books she'd read, things she'd done lately. Anything, as long as it had nothing to do with the gallery. Garry would occasionally nod, or make a comment towards her ramblings, but mostly he just listened quietly to what she had to say. He'd been a good listener in their last journey; it was a personal trait he clearly contained. This all Ib feel better to at least temporarily get her mind off of her surroundings. Still, Garry often glanced around wearily, checking to make sure that the two of them didn't have any unwanted company.

After what seemed like a hour or two, Garry stood, offering his hand to Ib. "We should probably get going. The faster we get back to walking, the faster we get out" he weakly said, and Ib took his hand and stood. She nodded in agreement and off the two went, deeper into the dark recesses of the eerie world once again. "Ib, how long have you been here? Wait….since there's no way to tell time in here…..never mind" he began to ramble. Ib merely looked around, her eyes met merely by grey halls, now entirely empty. The occasional painting would appear, but none of them would budge. One painting she saw caught her eye, due to the oddity of it. Pausing, she walked over to it, for a better look.

It was of a forest, but some sections of the trees were missing. Yet other things, shadows and such, were there without a source for them. Looking to the thin name plate, she noted it was named "At Night They Will Play" with no other information. She'd never seen the peculiar painting, but before she could think to much, she heard giggling, and footsteps. "EEEEK!" Garry's high-pitched, feminine screech echoed, as if it'd come right from a horror film. Ib quickly looked over to his shaking figure, which now was on the ground. He looked to Ib, and quickly regained focus "Ah! Sorry, it just startled me a bit, the giggling and footsteps that is. You did hear that too, right Ib?" his comment was answered by a nod of agreement from the short brunette.

The giggling got louder, and then suddenly disappeared, and Ib took a glance to the picture. What was once missing was back, along with the thin frail forms of a few children, mischievous smiles on their faces. Garry followed her gaze "And the madness begins…" he muttered with a sigh. Ib merely waited until Garry once again returned to walking, then followed him as usual, as the two of them resumed their trek through the grey, uniform corridors.


	7. Chapter 7: Shelves

After multiple dead-ends and what seemed like millions of random turns, they came to a hall, but instead of merely containing pictures, it also included three doors. Each had a separate color, blue, red, and a yellow one farther down, that seemed as if it would cave in at any moment. Ib shifted away from the golden hued gateway, and Garry nodded. "Let's check that one last." He softly spoke, walking towards the blue door, his hand, outstretched, and clutched the knob. Attempting to open the door, Garry got a creak and multiple clicks; the door voicing it was locked. Walking to the red door, he repeated his previous actions. This door, unlike the blue one, swung open with little effort, and Ib entered, Garry following behind.

A vase, placed crookedly on a table, sat in the corner near the door, and though it was empty, Garry made sure to memorize its presence. Multiple rows of shelves were strategically placed throughout the room, allowing a thin path to be walked through each row. Ib's curiousity peaked, and she looked to Garry, then to the stacks. "We should check them, just in case." Ib quickly went to inspect the labyrinth of shelves. Some of them held books, others held random objects, and some were entirely empty. Still, the two investigated EVERY case thoroughly, quietly focused on their task. There was nothing out of the ordinary, though all of the books focused mainly on art.

Garry found a book focusing on Guertena's works, and quickly flipped through it, searching for the M's. Finally coming to it, she searched for the title 'Mary' the painting who'd lied, and even attempted to kill him. He'd come in contact with a similar book, from which he learned the blonde girl's true identity. Instead of displaying the picture and information on the painting and the artists inspiration for the creation, it merely stated 'Little is known about this image. Though some say it is a painting made by Guertena in his last few years, there is no proof of this painting even existing.' In that moment, he heard a clang, and a yelp.

Letting out a startled cry himself, he ran towards the noise, worried for the sake of young Ib. After a moment, he released his breath, seeing she'd only stumbled on the edge of a smaller shelve, and it had tilted over, leaning against the wall. Quickly assisting the thin girl out of the tunnel of books, before they came tumbling down. With a sigh, the two of them sat down, amongst the piles of books, oblivious to the overly familiar paint that trailed down the tipped shelf, letters formed in it's cerulean color.


	8. Chapter 8: Familiar Friends

Ib's eyelids fluttered, and she awoke, quickly taking a look around the room. A familiar dark shredded coat had been draped over her, nostalgia creeping in. With a sigh, she stood, clutching the jacket, and walking towards Garry. He was over near some shelves looking through them once more. "Hey, glad to see you're awake" he said with a smile. Handing the coat to him, she nodded. "Ah, thanks Ib! Are you ready to go? If not, feel free to rest for a bit longer, I'd hate for you to over exert yourself." Ib smiled at his comment, he always seemed to worry about her. "I'm ready to go." she replied.

As the two turned towards the single door, Garry quickly sighed, pointing to a collection of dark violet paint on one of the shelves. "It seems we've been given another message." With a nod, Ib walked to it, making an attempt to decipher the inky splatter that had clearly run down the vertical shelving over time. 'Ib~ Hurry and play the game~' had been sprawled out of the dark navy hues of paint. "How on earth did this even get in here? We've been here for hours, and when we entered there wasn't any paint on this shelf, nor was there any paint in the room to begin with!" Garry exclaimed, clearly confused. Still, the two of them knew that this world was made unnatural in every possible way. But it was still a bit peculiar, especially since these 'guiding words' had been appearing since the very beginning of her first trip to Guertena's Fabricated world.

Garry and Ib quickly left, making sure the coast was clear before stealthily exiting the room. They didn't want to be met by another one of the 'Ladies In Red' or any other threats for that matter. Without making much sound, the two looked to the other two rooms, weighing their options on what to do next. Garry moved to the blue door, putting his hand on the knob, before quickly recoiling. "That door…it's shaking." He said, looking at it with wide eyes, as if it were about to eat him. Ib walked to the sunny gold door, reluctantly turning the knob. For a moment, she thought it wouldn't open, but like the crimson door, it swung ajar.

But instead of plain shelves of books, the sight that the two were greeted by made them stop dead in their tracks. Scores of eerie blue dolls with wide, blood red eyes were scattered amongst the room, eerie smiles painted on their faces. A giant portrait of a doll similar to the ones around them hung in the center of the back wall, and Garry's eyes turned back into saucers. Ib shuddered, as she quickly walked back to the door, planning to open it. Her eyes widened in fear as she shook the handle multiple times, but the knob held tight, trapping the two in the room of Mary's dolls.


	9. Chapter 9a: Final Game (Bad Ending 1)

**Authors Note:**

**Hello All~ Thank you for reading my works, i appreciate it a lot. In order to add to your entertainment in my story, i decided to try something new, to see if you like it. Every once in a while, i'll throw in one of these, a (Bad Ending) to give a similar idea as the normal game. This means the characters do not pass through this trial in this chapter (so if you were playing the game, they essentially lost) But in order to continue the story, i'll have a chapter 9b up soon that will be a positive one, and they will continue through, thus progressing in the story. Feel free to comment on this new idea, so that i may further your enjoyment in my series, and i hope you will keep supporting me!  
**

Ib turned from the unyielding knob and looked back to the room. "W-wasn't this the room we found you in…when you were freaking out and hallucinating?" she quietly asked, as if the dolls would awaken at any moment. Garry merely nodded in reply, taking a step forward, clearly reluctant to do so. "We should check around to see if there's anything we can use to open the door, or maybe there's another exit of some sort." He finally spoke after a moment, clearly making sure to talk quietly as well. Rows of crimson eyes bore into them as the two walked through the room, searching thoroughly, yet making sure not to disturb any of the puppets. Garry sighed, passing by the giant painting, taking multiple nervous glances at it. For a mere second, he saw a pale, circular orb clutched in the paintings violet grip.

Releasing a high-pitched squeak, the pale haired man fell backwards, scooting away from the painting. What sounded like giggles erupted from an unknown source, and Ib quickly turned around. "Garry? What was that?" she asked, walking over to him and extending a thin hand. Taking hold of it, Garry stood, looking around "I only have one guess…" he meekly replied, eying the dolls, clearly suspecting them. Along with him, Ib took another glance around, noticing another new addition to the room. Near the pale yellow door, was a messily scrawled message, the pale gray-white paint standing out against the rest of the dark wall. Both Ib and Garry walked towards it, deciphering the words of an unknown writer. _'Hello~ I see you've brought a friend this time! Will you play with us again?' _It read, and Garry quickly looked to the painting suspecting it to move. "Ib…we need to get out of here." He said urgently, as the painting's claw-like digits begin to twitch.

Struggling to reign in his nerves, Garry looked around, the ghastly giggles reappearing, sounding closer than before. Frantically looking towards the worn yellow door, he noticed multiple of the dolls had appeared in front of it, moved by invisible hands. Ib's wide eyes watched as the painting began to move it's fingers, clenching and unclenching, it's giant mouth of knife-like teeth smiling a eerie, un-nerving smile. "Garry….it's waking up!" she said, her tone shaky, as she looked for something to use in the event they had to fight. Hearing this, the mauve haired man quickly kicked the dolls out of the way, oblivious to the sound of them slamming into the wall nearby, and the crimson paint that pooled from their now torn and mangled forms. Slamming his shoulder into the rickety door, he attempted to break it down in order to escape the blue beast.

The laughter got louder, it was now deafening, as the giant monster's head and torso exited the painting, though it did take it quite a bit of effort. Giant jaws opening and closing, the puppet laughed, its voice sounding wrong, as if it belonged to thousands of people who all had both high and low pitched voices. Ib covered her ears, letting out a scream, as she backed up. Looking around, she noticed a shiny form sticking out of one of the dolls stomachs. Panicked, the brunette raced over to it, hurriedly sinking her nails into the dolls chest, and clawing at it, oblivious to the peculiar shrieking sound that had appeared, and removed the key from it. Running back to Garry, she tossed him the key, right before the claws of the giant closed around her.

Garry opened the door, just in time to hear the scream of Ib. Turning, he watching in terror as the young girl sank to the floor, giant bloody claw marks down her side, thanks to the monster. Unable to do anything, he watched as the puppet smiled even wider, in his hands, Ib's thin red rose. Running toward the beast, Garry tried to save his companion, but it was too late. Within seconds of reaching the monster, he watched as it ripped the lively petals of the crimson flower from their stem, Ib coughing up blood. It laughed as he sunk down to her. "Ib? IB!" He screamed, shaking her limp form, seconds before the monster cackled once more, sinking its claws into into him, as everything faded away.

-GAME OVER-

Continue?


	10. Chapter 9b: The Puppet's End

**Author's Note: Thank you once again for continuing to read my story (i apologise for the wait for this new chapter) and i'm proud to present chapter 9(b), the true or 'good' turnout of the Yellow Door! I hope you've enjoyed reading my story, and i hope you continue to do so! Thank you!**

After a moment, the brunette teen sighed, nervous and frustrated. "It…..It's locked." She said, her voice shaky, as if it might crack at any moment. The two began to search for a key, or any means to break the door down. Scores of the creepy dolls stared at no point in the particular, mouths set in manic smiles, revealing designs of sharp teeth. It seemed almost as if they were watching the pair, anticipating what would happen next. Ib searched amongst the rows of dolls, for perhaps a switch, or some sort of switch. Still, no matter where she looked, it seemed that the room was keyless. This was similar to the place she'd found Garry, when he was in hysterics, and she took a quick look to him, wondering how he was fairing.

Like her, Garry was searching, looking for cracks in the walls, or weak spots in the door that would give them a chance at escape. Turning to observe the rest of the room once again, his eyes fell on the painting, as he walked toward it. As he searched it for any clues, he froze, noticing a familiar silvery hued ball, clutched in the claws of the giant dolls eerie blue form. Eyes wide, Garry took a step back, understanding what was going on. "Oh no, not this again…." He muttered frantically, looking to Ib. She'd stepped toward him, her expression worried and confused. "Garry? Is something wrong? Is it because of what happened last-" she was clearly concerned, but she silenced as the two of them heard what sounded to be giggling from nowhere in particular, followed by a peculiar sound of something dripping near the door.

The two of them turned their attention to the door, quickly noticing large letters scribbled messily on the yellow door in an odd grayish hue, merely stating 'SHALL WE PLAY AGAIN~~~?' it asked, as the light above the two flickered, dimming to the point where it was quite a challenge to see. Startled, the two turned, and Ib let out a squeak of surprise, as the giant painting 'doll's eyes began to glow a blood red, it's fingers beginning to twitch. Closing her eyes, Ib tried to think of what they could do, how they could escape, before the beast got to them. Taking another quick look around, she saw a small crack in the door's wood. Despite knowing that she wouldn't be able to do much with her lack of physical strength, she ran at the door, slamming into it with all of her weight.

Ignoring the pain, she took a few steps back, running at it again. Both times, the door had given a slight 'creak' in reply, but it hadn't budged. Frantic, she turned to the giant doll, hoping it hadn't moved much, and that she still had time. Garry was throwing whatever he could, as the giant beast began to move, exiting the painting. The sound of giggling had reappeared, and was getting louder, now almost deafening. The beast opened and closed its giant jaws, knife-like teeth clacking together with each movement. Running over to Garry, Ib joined in, throwing dolls and pieces of furniture, oblivious to the think reddish substance that oozed from each of the ripped up dolls. With each doll that was broken, the larger beast seemed to wince, almost pained by their destruction, and the sound of laughter dimmed.

As more were ripped up, the painting's fingers unclenched, and the orb of metallic paint rolled into the hands of Garry, who looked at it. Paint oozed onto his fingers as the orb began to melt away, revealing a key, embellished with a yellowy stone. Noticing this, the large doll began to move towards him, claws and teeth aimed to strike. Running toward the door, Garry looked behind him, seeing Ib following him closely. Quickly, he slipped the key into the lock, his hands shaking as he turned the key and knob. A tiny groan was released from the door, and it opened, the two ran out the door, shutting and locking the door from the outside. The laughing had died away, and after a moment, all Ib heard was silence.

Releasing the breath she'd held, the thin girl began to calm down a bit, thankful that they'd escaped in time. Looking to the pale man next to her, she smiled, seeing he was unharmed. "I'm glad you're okay." She said, and Garry smiled, nodding, saying his reply after a moment "I'm thankful you are too." For a moment, the two merely sat there, calming down and preparing for what could lie ahead. Ib began to realize once again how unsafe this world could be, and she found herself on edge, preparing for something else to appear. After a few moments, a giant 'CRASH!' came from behind the yellow door, Ib jumped, and Garry turned to the door, prepared for the giant doll to break through and return to pursuing them. Yet despite their thoughts, the door stayed locked, and silence once again surrounded them. "Um...let's not go back in there." Garry said, pointing nervously to the door in question, Ib quickly nodding without a second thought.


	11. Chapter 10: Thanks Again

**Author's** **Note: **

**It's been a while since I've updated my stories, and I'm REALLY sorry, a lot's been going on with my life. Luckily, it's calming down a lot, and I should be able to make many more chapters on Garry and Ib's adventures! Enjoy~**

"Well, we should get going." Garry said, turning away from the eerie yellow door, looking about the hall, confused. "Wasn't there….two more doors?" He muttered aloud, shaking his head. "Oh well. This place's full of weird tricks." Ib nodded in agreement, reflecting on the peculiar events that had taken place before she'd found Garry, remembering that the halls had changed a bit as well at one point. The two once again set off on their journey, walking down the corridor, Garry looking about in a paranoid manner. "Garry?" the young girl nearly whispered her name, as if she were worried something would overhear her. "Hmm? Is something wrong Ib?" Looking to her, Garry's eyebrows furrowed, and he quickly looked about the path again "Did you see something weird?" he asked. "No." Ib quickly replied, tone steady and assuring. "I wanted to apologize." Her tone became shaky again, and she struggled to fight back tears. "I-I forgot all about you. And we'd promised to get out the first time together."

"It's okay. You couldn't help it. I'm thankful you were able to get out. I just wish you hadn't gotten stuck back in here. Not that I'm not happy to see you, I really am! But I hate that you got stuck back in this place." Garry had begun rambling again, and after a minute or two, he caught himself. "But it's okay. We'll get out together this time. I promise." He said, as the duo came to a fork in the path. "Hmm. How about we check the left path first, then the right?"

Not caring which direction they started in, Ib nodded, and they began their way on the left trail. Like the previous hall, this one was empty and fairly dark, giving an odd and almost haunted aura to it. Despite the corridor's familiar look, something about it made Ib even wearier than she'd already been. Shadows seemed to slither and dart about, and the young teen found herself glancing around, as her thoughts filled with paranoia. Noticing this, Garry offered her his hand, an innocent gesture to show that he would keep her safe, despite his own fears. Smiling weakly, Ib took the hand, feeling quite a bit safer as they continued down the hall.

The hall suddenly turned right, and following it, Garry and Ib found themselves in a giant exhibition room, similar to the one from which Ib had come. But unlike regular showrooms, the paintings were missing, empty frames haphazardly swinging on walls, or tossed about the floors. A familiar dragging noise came from their right, and the sound was soon met by the sight of three Ladies of Red, Blue, and Yellow, all screeching as they quickly clawed their way toward the duo. Startled by the sudden event, Garry jumped, practically dragging Ib away, clasping her small hand tightly as he weaved his way through the room with no real sense of direction.

His only hope was that the series of sudden turns would slow down their painted pursuers, and lead to some sort of exit. Eyes darting about, the two struggled to find a path that would lead to safety, but as the sounds once again became louder, Ib merely ran in the opposite direction, hoping something would appear down the path. As she continued down the path, the two came upon a door, and Garry quickly went to it, thankful for it's convenient appearance. Turning the handle repeatedly, he muttered something under his breath, before looking to Ib, sighing. "It's locked…."

On the side of one of the walls was a painting, of a familiar lady, umbrella clasped in her hands. Under the painting, is a small question. "Do you remember who I am?" Ib smiles, remembering how she'd returned the woman's umbrella. "You're the Lady With Her Umbrella." The painted girl seems to smile, as the words reform under the painting. "Thank you again for finding it." After a second, the door unlocks, and Garry, without another thought, swung the door open. With a small wave to the painting, Ib quickly ran through the door, Garry closing it behind her, as the two find themselves in another corridor.

A vase full of water sat atop a small side table, and the two smiled. "You can go first Ib, there's plenty of water for both of them" Garry said, referring to the roses. "Thanks." Ib replied gratefully, walking to the elegant vase, about to put her rose's stem into it when she noticed something. "This isn't water….it's….I hope that's paint." The thick red liquid sat lazily in the glass, and Ib knew better than to put her rose into it. "What on earth?!" Garry commented, looking at the paint(?) from behind Ib. "That's weird….we should just keep going then." Once again Garry and Ib continued, looking about for anything out of the ordinary, but there was barely anything at all in the thin pathway.


	12. Chapter 11: Plush and Painted Hands

**Authors Note: Hello everyone! I'm sorry I haven't made a new chapter in quite a while, this one took some time (and i was lazy XAX;;) but with it being summer, I'll be updating this fanfic along with making some new ones quite often! I hope you enjoy!**

Continuing their journey down the hall, Ib and Garry chatted a bit, the topic changing constantly. Questions like "So has the gallery changed any?" from "When's your birthday?" had been tossed about, both of them awkwardly stumbling to keep a conversation going, no matter how pointless. After only mere minutes, the duo found themselves turned down yet another hall, this one was peculiar, colored brightly in pastels and chalks that burned their way through the black under them. The way it was drawn, messily yet peculiarly morbid in their details made the two stop in their tracks. On the walls, was a scene, Ib and Garry's meeting with Mary, and the events that they'd had, continuing down to their final showdown.

"Garry… what on earth?" the young girl murmured aloud as she made her way down, hand trailing across the painted pictures, as if to ensure they were real. "T-This couldn't mean…" she turned to the older man, eyes wide, her peculiar sentences referring to Mary "….could it?" Garry's expression was a bit alarmed as well, but it quickly snapped back into focus. "I…. I hope not." His voice a bit shaky, but the two continue down the hall, inspecting the drawings, which have now changed.

The yellow haired girl sits all alone, in a room surrounded by dolls, pictures, and other objects, including her rose, which have all been burnt to a gross brownish-black color, yet still mainly in-tact for the most part. Even the tips of her hair and dress seem to be singed, just barely, and aside from that, she seems to have no signs of injury. Her chalky figure holds an eerie expression, the eyes streaming tears, but her mouth turned up in a peculiarly wide smile, reminding Ib of a shark. Next to and below the image, cursive has been sprawled, smeared a bit, but still legible, in a bright, sunshine yellow.

_Hello Ib, welcome back! I'm so glad you've returned, and so soon! We've all made mistakes Ib, but that's okay, we have plenty of time to forgive._ The last word was written much larger than the rest, apparently for accent, which seemed to add to the peculiar feel that the words had given Ib. "She….She's back…" Ib's tone became frantic, almost strangled, cracking at the end. "What…how did that happen…how? I thought….. I thought she was…." Her eyes wide, she looked to Garry, even more frantic. "What if she tries to hurt you again?" The words worried and questioning, as she found tears forming on the edges of her vision.

Seeing this, Garry quickly approached her, wrapping his arms around her in a simple hug, unsure of how to calm her down. "It's okay… Maybe it's just another trick, this world is full of them, and if she is here, we'll find a way to keep her away from hurting us." He said words hopeful and reassuring, with the hopes that she'd be able to calm down a bit. After a moment of standing like that, Ib managed to finally clear her thoughts, and the two continued to walk down the artistic hall. At the end of the corridor, the two found another door, and without issue, the two entered into a brand new room. This one was similar to the others, grey walls aligned in a labyrinth-like fashion befitting a gallery, but this one actually had paintings hung on the display areas.

Looking at the paintings, the duo was even more on edge than before. Frames hung from each wall, crooked, the paintings behind them darkish blobs, similar to photo negatives, as if the characters had jumped from the paintings, leaving a black nothingness in their place. Inspecting one, Garry wasn't able to tell what the image was originally, but the event was quite odd.

After a moment, Garry heard a peculiar noise, like swinging through the air. It was quite loud, like it was right next to him, and he found himself looking from side to side for anything odd. Looking to Ib, he saw her face was pale, eyes wide, focused on something above his head. Confused, he took a step out of the way, and a dark form plummeted to the floor where he'd been seconds before. Letting out a small shriek, the duo both looked to the crumpled form, confused, stunned, and worried. The figure was a doll, face obscured by purple/mauve hair. Without looking at the face, both of them knew who it was supposed to be, none other than Garry. Moving over to his 'dead' clone, red paint billowed from its head and back, which had been impaled multiple times, most likely by a knife of sorts. Like the original's ensemble, the doll wore a tattered blue coat, which was now covered in holes and paint.

"Who did this…..Mary?" Ib asked, voice a tiny bit shaky as she looked to Garry. "Probably. She really doesn't like me does she?" He commented, laughing nervously after. In reality, he was just as surprised and startled as she, especially by how angrily the doll had been destroyed. Still, the duo knew they had to continue, at the very least to escape the peculiar 'corpse'. "Let's go, shall we? Maybe to somewhere little less…eerie?" Garry asked, looking to Ib, with a small smile. "Yes please, especially if we can find a way out of here." The teen quickly replied, wanting nothing to do with any more weird happenings, though she doubted that would be the last.

After a bit of wandering the two of them managed to find a door, this one extremely colorful, a drawing of two girls drawn on it. One a brunette, clutching a red rose in one hand, the other a blonde, clutching a yellow rose, which was a bit faded, almost brown at the edges. The two were holding hands, appearing quite happy, though there wasn't a ton of detail due to it being a chalk drawing. A few words had been written under the image, and Ib quickly read them. _Hello again Ib!_ It read, and no sooner than she'd finish did the duo hear giggling. Turning around, they saw a group of familiar blue-ish dolls. Some of them were scratched, broken, or ripped up, but they continued to move, red eyes glowing deviously. Along with them were multiple silhouettes, similar to the missing images on the paintings, though it was hard to tell. The door behind them swung open, and without another second, they were pushed into the room by painted and plush hands.

This room, Ib realized, was almost the exact same as the one in the halls, where a burnt Mary had been sitting. Unlike the drawing, little of it was brown or burnt, mostly colorful, filled wall to wall with eerie chalk drawings, dolls and many other dolls and items. In the center of the room stood a familiar blonde girl, her green eyes locking onto Ib, a giant cheerful grin on her face.


End file.
